


A house is not a home; a hotel is not a veterinary hospital

by MisconductandMimosas



Series: A house is not a home [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Gen, Kittens, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisconductandMimosas/pseuds/MisconductandMimosas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie had been expecting a lot of things during his second Olympics. He had lived through the Vancouver Olympics but just barely. The pranking, parties, the pride- it had been a lot. And that was Canada. The Russian guys had promised a good time and since he was rooming with his captain, Richie figured they had this covered. The only two American players representing Vegas and his captain's first Olympics? It was all on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A house is not a home; a hotel is not a veterinary hospital

Richie had been expecting a lot of things during his second Olympics. He had lived through the Vancouver Olympics but just barely. The pranking, parties, the pride- it had been a lot. And that was Canada. The Russian guys had promised a good time and since he was rooming with his captain, Richie figured they had this covered. The only two American players representing Vegas and his captain's first Olympics? It was all on them.

 

Or at least, Richie thought they were going to be leading the charge.

 

He was not expecting Kent Parson standing at the door to their hotel room on day four in Russia, cupping his hands and looking over his shoulder as though he had just snuck PEDs into their building. He quickly stood up off of the bed and pointed to Kent’s cupped hands. He could see the fluff peeking through his captain’s fingers. 

 

“What the fuck is that, Parser?” 

 

Kent grinned at him. Richie did not like that grin. That grin left him in the middle of the Las Vegas strip at 3AM with two rookies once. “You know how people are adopting dogs?” His captain started.

 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed the fur all over the Olympic Village.” Richie waggled his finger towards Kent’s hands again. “Thing is- that’s not a dog, Kenny.”

 

“Seriously, Richie? Is the time difference making you stupid or was it the hit you took yesterday?” Kent shot back, frowning at him. Kent delicately used two fingers to pet the furball that was in his hands.

 

“I’m just saying- you talk about how everyone is getting dogs- you said you were thinking about going to get a dog- this-“ Richie walked up to his captain and pushed his fingers away from the ball of fur, “-isn’t a dog.”

 

Richie did take a hit in the previous night’s game but still, he knew a dog from a cat. That was definitely a cat- a kitten. “Everyone is _saying_ that they’re going to bring home dogs, Richie. You know how long it’ll take them to get quarantined and shit?” Kent complained.

 

“Since when do you know things?”

 

Kent just shrugged. God, he was already smiling helplessly at the cat. “Heard the figure skaters talking about the process. They already started but they’re not sure if it’ll all be done by the time the games are over.”

 

“Does that mean the dogs stay here?” Richie hoped so. The plane ride over with a bunch of American Olympians had been wild enough without dogs. 

 

“Until they can be shipped back to the states or Canada.” Kent shrugged. “Depends, I guess.”

 

“You ship animals?” Richie asked blankly.

 

He had seen that particular Kent Parson look too. Usually it was directed towards him after he got called for a penalty. “How else are they going to get home, Richie?”

 

“Sure, Parser, I’m the idiot in this situation. You still have a cat.” Kent smiled at him, as though being reminded that he had a sleeping kitten in his hands was better than the gold medal they had come there to win.

 

“I’m hoping the process for the cat will be a little easier,” Kent said hopefully. “I already set some of it up. I just gotta get some paperwork and stuff.”

 

Richie tried to examine the ball of fuzz but it was so tightly curled up in Kent’s hands that he couldn’t properly make out its shape. “Is it even alive?”

 

“Of course she’s alive,” Kent said, offended, and drew his hands back away from his A.

 

“She? You a vet now too?”

 

“It’s not that hard to recognize that an animal doesn’t have a dick, Dick,” Kent punctuated the chirp with a nickname that, surprisingly, Richie didn’t hear too often. 

 

“Har har har. Funny captain.”

 

“I’m not your captain here,” Kent reminded him for what seemed like the eleventh time since they’ve arrived in Sochi.

 

“Semantics.” Richie reached out and used a single finger to pet the kitten’s head. “She’s tiny though. You sure she’s okay?”

 

“I maybe-“ Kent stopped himself, snapping his mouth shut. 

 

“You maybe what?” Richie asked warily.

 

“She didn’t have a mother. There wasn’t a mama cat. Just a few kittens and a couple kids from the town had already gotten the other ones. I maybe-“ 

 

“Maybe what, Parse,” Richie asked exasperated, cutting his captain off before he could ramble anymore.

 

“I talked to the figure skaters, you know? After they set me up with an appointment, they got me some stuff for her too.”

 

Richie finally noticed the bag looped around Kent’s wrist. “Please tell me there’s not a bottle or eyedropper in there. I’ve seen this television show, buddy. It doesn’t end well.”

 

“It might end well,” Kent insisted and Rich knew he had lost the battle but he still tried to be the voice of reason.

 

“You want to go home with a medal and a kitten? We’ve got practices and games to win, Parse- you can’t be stuck in the room taking care of a kitten.”

 

“So I’ll take her with me. She fits in my toque.”

 

“You’re supposed to wear the toque, genius.” Richie tugged at his own obnoxious red, white, & blue beanie. 

 

“I’ve got three of them,” Kent said nonchalantly. 

 

“They gave you more than one? What the fuck! How come you got more swag than me?”

 

“I’m not answering, bud. You bring that up with the Team USA people yourself.” Kent already was digging through the bag with one hand and holding the kitten close to his chest with the other. 

 

“Fine,” Richie grumbled. “But I’m documenting this for future blackmail.”

 

**———————**

**Press Conference- before the Gold Medal Game**

**———————**

 

“Yeah, well, you know, it’s been a little rough here and there but we’ve got a good team and we’re ready for tomorrow.”

 

“Oh- do you mean the hotel conditions that a couple other athletes have hinted at?”

 

“What? Our hotel is fine. No, I’m talking about the stray cat that Parser found and decided to nurse back to health.”

 

“What?”

 

“Sure, everyone else gets to room with cute stray dogs and I’m stuck with a ball of fuzz who meows every two hours cause she’s hungry.”

 

“Are you telling us that Kent Parson, captain of the Las Vegas Aces-“

 

“And total nerd-“

 

“Adopted a kitten?”

 

“Well, he found a kitten. He says it’s gotta go through quarantine first or something before she’s officially his.”

 

“What kind of kitten is she?”

 

“A tiny one?”

 

“Did he name it?”

 

“Oh boy, did he.”


End file.
